Hot Potato Love
by DrivebyReader
Summary: Sasha Braus meets Gilbert Bielschmidt at training camp. He's a bad boy with potatoes; she's a dork with an appetite. PWP lemon with a dash of sugar. One shot. Sexy times with food; you've been warned.


**Hot Potato Love—an Attack on Titan-Hetalia Axis Powers crossover.**

One evening, Sasha Braus collapsed, gasping as she usually did after her punishment. She had run more laps than the previous evening, so she was proud of that. But she was so hungry, so damn hungry. She sat up, panting, looking out towards the barracks. Usually, someone came out with food with her. Sweet little Krista was the most frequent bearer of food, but even Mikasa sometimes casually handed her a loaf of bread or a plate of leftovers. Mmmm, leftovers…she could almost smell them now. Stew, overcooked vegetables, baked potatoes…

_Potatoes._ Sasha sniffed the air eagerly. Ah, potatoes, the beloved bane of her existence, the cause of all her troubles. If she hadn't stolen and started eating one of the first day of training, she wouldn't have to run extra laps and miss dinner. She got up and turned about, trying to place the smell. Funny, it wasn't coming from the barracks or the mess hall. She wandered about the training field, detecting where the scent grew stronger or fainter. It was coming from the trees at the edge of the field.

She paused. Of course the Titans didn't cook or eat anything but humans, but she still was cautious. If she were meant to die in battle, that was one thing, but to be devoured because of a potato—no, not even she could see the value in that.

Then she saw the glow. It wasn't much, just a low-lying, spotty orange flicker, but it reassured her. Titans didn't build fires. Maybe it was a stranger, but so what? Everyone was so anxious about the greater danger of the Titans, that a wanderer, even a thief, didn't seem that bad. She approached, remembering what the recruits had learned about walking silently. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, they widened. She clapped her hand over her mouth to keep from blurting out something stupid.

The new recruit, Gilbert Bielschmidt, was poking at a dull fire with a stick. In the flame's glow, she could see him grinning cockily. Sasha had first noticed him when he and his brother first arrived to training camp. Everyone had noticed him, of course; he had white-blond hair, an annoying laugh and boastful manner, and the strangest colored eyes she had ever seen. At first glance, they seemed dark brown, but when she looked at them, she realized they were more of a burgundy red. In the fire's reflection, they now looked that didn't impress her. What did was what he was singing to himself. "Potatoes, potatoes, _ich liebe Sie, _potatoes…"

"Hey, you got potatoes?" The moment she blurted that out, Sasha wanted to run back to the barracks. But when Gilbert looked up at her and grinned, she froze.

"Yeah, I do." He studied her. He had a funny smile, she thought: kind of cocky, kind of cruel, kind of self-mocking.

"So why are you out here cooking potatoes when you can eat in the mess hall with everyone else?" Sasha wondered if he had heard about her punishment.

Gilbert shrugged and returned to poking the embers. "Because the food sucks," he said. "Because the company sucks. Because sometimes there's nothing like a potato baked in embers under a night sky." He glanced up at her, and she could see how his eyes glowed like garnets.

He must know, she thought. Everyone had witnessed what had happened to her during the first roll call and the penalty for it. Here she was, starving, and he was smirking at her because he _knew._ Mikasa or Annie would have walked away, stomachs rumbling but pride intact. But Sasha never pretended she was either of them.

"How many potatoes do you have?" She whispered. She watched his stick poke among the gray and orange ashes, looking for the comforting brown of potato skins. There they were, with that slightly blistered look that signaled doneness. Her mouth watered.

"Oh, four," he replied. He pulled one away from the heat with his stick and picked it up with both hands, bouncing it between his palms and cursing from the heat. "We'll just let this one cool a bit, break it open and sprinkle some salt on it. Mmmm, yummy." He was talking to himself, but kept darting glances at her.

"_Four _potatoes?!" Sasha sank to her knees, overwhelmed. "You can't eat four potatoes at one sitting! Even I can't, and I'm famished!" Her dignity expired in a growling stomach. "Please, Gilbert, I haven't had anything to eat all day! Just give me one, please! It can be the smallest one, I don't care!"

He looked at her, that strange, unkind smile on his face. "I dunno," he said grandly, "I'm pretty hungry and what I don't eat can sit in the ashes and be a nice little addition to that glop they call breakfast tomorrow."

"Please, Gilbert!" Sasha crawled across the wet grass, toward the smirking young man and the heavenly fire of potatoes. As she got closer, she could smell the crisp skins. So tasty, so filling, so _good_, she wanted to cry, grovel, anything for a bite. "You can spare me one, I know you can!"

"Do you _really_ want one?" Gilbert had cooled the potato sufficiently to squeeze it open in his hand. He was dipping the other into his pants pocket for a little leather bag of salt. Salt, so rare and expensive, so perfect for bringing out the flavor of a potato.

"I do, please! I'll do anything for you, I swear!" Sasha could feel tears welling up in her eyes, blurring her vision of her favorite food and the oddly colored young man who possessed it.

"Anything?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Sasha nodded, her growling stomach affirming her desperation. "Okay. Kiss me."

She could do that, she decided. She could kiss him quickly on the lips and then cram her mouth full of warm, mealy goodness. She leaned towards him, lips puckered.

She wasn't ready for the full-on assault of his tongue, his teeth clacking against hers, his free hand roughly grabbing her breast. She pulled back, gasping, and cuffed him. "You said a kiss!" she cried. "Not groping and sticking your tongue down my throat!"

Gilbert shrugged, nonplussed. Sasha's fist had left a red mark on his pale cheek. He bounced the potato up and down in his hand, smirking at her. "Last time I checked, tongues were part of kissing, babe," he drawled. "But if I offended your delicate sensibilities, oh well." He took a bite of the potato, sighing in pleasure. "Oh, potato, you really are awesome," he crooned to himself. "Definitely worth an open-mouth kiss and a smack in the face." He grinned at her, chewing.

Sasha could only watch, devastated by his happiness in devouring the potato before her. She whimpered a little, and then clutched her head in her hands. Stupid, stupid pride, always getting in the way! If only she hadn't grown hungry and bored during roll call, if only she hadn't insisted she could take all the punishment the drill sergeant wanted to dish out, if only she didn't care if a man groped her or not. She sobbed.

"You know, there's still some potato left." Gilbert's voice was now soft, even kind. She looked up and saw him still chewing. "C'mon, just a kiss this time. No hands, I promise. Just one awesome kiss."

"Now?" Sasha's voice sounded as small as she felt. He nodded. She lunged at him, open-mouthed, forcing his lips apart. They were warm and soft, and his mouth was wet also. She plunged her tongue into it, desperately scooping at the remaining clumps of potato in his mouth. She ignored the little "Mmmphs" of protest he made as she pressed against him. He sprawled back on his elbows as she ran her fingers through his hair, trying to get closer to every last bit of food she could get. _So good,_ she thought, _so damn good._

"Dammit!" Gilbert jerked his head away and glared at her. In the firelight, she could see little flickers of blood red in his dark irises. Sasha placed her hands down on each side of his head, studying him. Despite the sunburn on his nose and high cheekbones, his skin was pale, paler than Armin's or Krista's. His sharp chin quivered in humiliation and his thin lips were rosy from her bites. _Not bad,_ she realized,_ strange-looking, but not bad. _

"What?" He snapped. A red flush rose along his neck to his cheeks. "You got your damn potato. What do you want now?"

Sasha leaned forward, trapping him with her arms and body. "I only got a bite," she whispered. "I want a _whole_ potato."

"Get off me!" Gilbert snarled and twisted, but Sasha grasped his wrists with one hand. She settled back upon her haunches, straddling him, pleased with herself. She might not be the smartest, bravest, or calmest of the new recruits, but she was pretty fast and strong. She watched the young man panting under her, the deepening blush on his face.

"What do you _want?" _His voice rose. Sasha pulled up his shirt, curious about the rest of him. When she saw his bare torso, she gasped. She ran her free hand across his milky-white skin, feeling the hard muscles of his abdomen and chest twitch under her fingers. Not an ounce of softness or fat anywhere, except for the two pale pink nipples on his pecs. She had seen the young male recruits shirtless on really hot days. Some of them reminded her of greyhounds, delicate and lithe, like Mikasa's brother, Eren. Some, like Jean Kerstein and Gilbert's own brother Ludwig, were more like draft horses, muscular and tan from exposure. But Gilbert looked like the marble statues she had seen in town squares on market days, pale and chiseled. Gilbert Bielschmidt was _beautiful._

"Just take your fucking potato and go, okay?" Gilbert's voice broke. For the first time in days, Sasha didn't feel like the class fool, the idiot who ran laps until she fell onto the ground. She pinched one of his nipples and grinned when he yelped and she felt the little bud stiffen under her fingertips. She reached over and took the abandoned potato off of the ground and sank her teeth into it. Delicious.

"Seriously, crazy bitch. Just _go_." Gilbert twisted and bucked under her. Sasha looked down at him and smiled, jaws still working on the food.

"No," she said sweetly. She leaned down and kissed him. She could feel his tight lips give way to hers and gradually open. His tongue lashed around hers and she didn't even mind him swiping some of the half-chewed potato away from her. She sank down upon him, kissing him as hungrily as if she were feasting on a steak. She nipped at his lips and tongue, teasing her way across to his jawline and ear. She nibbled on his earlobe, enjoying the soft peach fuzz and flesh there. He tasted like salt and skin. He tasted wonderful.

Suddenly—she didn't know how—his hands broke free of her grip and they were digging into her back, pressing hard into her muscles and ribs. They rolled and he was on top of her, kissing her deeply, his tongue winning out over hers. Sasha sank back onto the cool night grass, still clutching the cooling potato. When he broke the kiss for air, she turned and bit deep into the tuber. Gilbert forced her face back to his, swiping chunks of the earthy flesh from her mouth. She didn't care, she realized; there was still some left, and three more potatoes waiting for them. She giggled, almost choking on the chunks of food and Gilbert's tongue in her mouth. Now he wasn't so punishing; his wet tongue and lips slid against hers, and she sighed, running her fingers through his silky hair.

Gilbert finally broke away from her, panting. He stared down at her, eyes hard as red gemstones. "You got to see mine," he whispered, "now show me yours."

Sasha shook her head and took another bite of potato. She loved how the salt enhanced its flesh, how she could still taste Gilbert's tongue and saliva in her mouth. When his hands pulled at her shirt's hem, she rolled away. Their legs tangled together and she was back on top. She could feel his hard hipbones under her thighs and something else twitching there also. He tried to pull up her shirt and she gripped his wrists in her free hand. Gilbert leaned his head back, Adam's apple working. She almost felt sorry for him.

"One more bite," she said, and she crammed the last of the potato into her mouth. "Now you want to see?" She asked with her mouth full. He nodded, unable to meet her eyes. Sasha pulled her shirt off and looked down at him. When he focused his gaze on her, she felt a thrill flutter in her stomach. She had never thought she was beautiful or even pretty; her body had always been functional to her, allowing her to run, climb and wrestle. But as she saw his pupils grow even wider in the night, she felt something strange rustle in her. He was staring at her breasts, she expected that, but she didn't expect the slightly stupid, open-mouthed expression on his face.

"Damn, girl," he whispered. "Those are _nice." _Sasha pinned both of his hands down with hers. She leaned forward and then yanked away when his head tried to meet her nipples.

"I let you touch them and then I get another potato," she whispered. He nodded frantically. She guided his hands up to her breasts and placed them upon them. This time his long fingers were soft, hesitant. She leaned over and grabbed a potato from the ashes. The skin burned her fingers slightly, but she didn't care. She was as transfixed as he, watching him knead her breasts. It felt good, she realized, little rays of heat spreading throughout her chest and down to her pelvis. She bit into the potato, savoring the crisp brown skin and the soft moist flesh underneath.

"Mmmm,"Sasha sighed, whether from the potato or Gilbert's touch, she didn't know. She could feel herself melting, just like the butter she remembered from childhood. Yes, she thought to herself, some butter would be wonderful right now.

"Can I kiss them?" Gilbert's voice interrupted her thoughts. She looked down and was touched by the neediness in his dark eyes. His fingers concentrated on her nipples, pressing and pinching them slightly, sending little sparks throughout her body. Sasha finished her first bite and took another.

"I need some salt first," she whispered. He nodded and tipped his head towards his pants pocket. She fished her hand into it, grazing along something hot and solid. It twitched when her fingers brushed it as she fumbled for the leather bag of salt and drew it out. Sasha pinched out some salt and sprinkled it on the potato. She took another bite, grinning as she heard Gilbert whimper a little.

"Okay. Now you can," she said. She leaned forward, nestling her chin in his white-blond hair, lazily cramming another bite of potato into her mouth. When she felt his mouth on her nipple, she shivered. It felt wet and warm, and as his tongue swirled around the sensitive point, she gasped. Damn, that felt good, almost as much as the pleasant feeling of the potato filling her stomach. Or was that something else, somewhere else that felt so warm and good?

Gilbert's arms circled around her back, pulling her closer to him. Now he was nursing more greedily, squeezing one nipple with his lips and teeth, and then travelling to the other. Sasha groaned, crumbs falling from her mouth and into his hair. She kissed the strands, trying to recapture the bits of potato that had escaped her. She could feel his hips rising against hers, and she pressed back, trying to keep her skin as close to his as possible. Something was happening, she realized, something that was making her both sleepy and hyperaware, more excited about what Gilbert was doing to her than about eating the potato.

When he rolled her onto her back, she didn't fight him. Instead she pulled his hair so his lips met hers and kissed him again. Oh, it felt and tasted so good, she realized. When he broke away and tore at the potato in her hand, she pulled him back so his mouth met hers and the potato's flesh passed between their lips. It turned soft and gummy between their tongues as they bit and held back little pieces of it. Mmmm, she thought, Gilbert-flavored potato.

He yielded the last bit to her and concentrated on kissing her closed eyes, ears and neck. When Sasha felt his teeth graze the thin skin along her jugular and sink into her trapezius, she gasped. It was painful but pleasing, reminding her that she was alive, she was awake, she was making out with a beautiful boy who shone like moonlight. A boy who gave her something to eat, and more. She clutched him to her and moaned when his bites grew more frequent and sharp along her neck. She turned and saw her free hand still clutching the last bit of potato and lazily palmed it into her mouth.

"You want some sausage to go with that potato, baby?" Gilbert whispered into her ear. He took Sasha's hand and rubbed it against his crotch.

"You have sausage?" Sasha's eyes fluttered and she snapped out of her reverie. She looked into his eyes with excitement. Really, this was her lucky night!

"Yeah, I have sausage, all right," he muttered huskily as he nipped and licked her neck.

Sasha struggled to sit up. "Well, come on, let's grill it before the fire dies out!" When she saw Gilbert start to laugh at her, she felt tricked again.

"It's a euphemism," he said.

"A what?" Sasha had to admit she had never been very clever at school.

"A _euphemism_," he enunciated. When he saw she still looked puzzled, he sighed and mumbled, "It's a subtle or clever way of saying something indirectly."

Sasha studied him, noting that her hand was still on the hard ridge along his inner thigh. "So there's no sausage then?" She could feel the spell of the past few minutes fading. He wasn't wonderful anymore; just another dirty-minded boy playing a trick on her.

"Not the kind you're thinking about," he sighed. He didn't look so sly and cocky anymore. "Look, let's just forget I said anything and—"

"Did you mean _this_?" Sasha squeezed the hard flesh her hand had been resting on. When he gasped and nodded, she felt a little better.

"Then you should have said so, dummy." She grinned as she watched his reaction. He looked startled, stupid, and in pain and pleasure. She let her fingers travel up to his pants buttons and fiddle with them. "It feels like it wants to come out," she whispered. He nodded, watching her face. Two more potatoes left, she thought, what would she give for them?

She undid his fly and drew him out. Not bad, she thought; a good length and thickness, warm and sleek, the little rose-colored tip emerging from the foreskin. She watched him swallow hard as she stroked him. "So what shall I do this with this?" She mused.

"Suck it." Gilbert's voice sounded strange, raspy and strangled. "You like putting things in your mouth. Suck it."

"What's that worth to you?" Suddenly Sasha didn't feel stupid and nervous anymore. She felt amused watching the smirking young man twist under her gaze and groan when she stroked him. So maybe she wasn't as beautiful as Mikasa or Annie, but she had a young man's dick in her hand and he was fascinated by her.

"A whole fucking potato. Just suck it," Gilbert whispered. When Sasha leaned over to pull the third potato out of the embers, he groaned as she squeezed him. The ashes were dying now, and she didn't have to worry about burning her hands. She gently rubbed the potato against the thin, stretched skin, noting how he whimpered at the warmth.

"I like those cute little noises you make," she teased as she squeezed the potato open with one hand. Gilbert growled and glared at her. "They're really sexy." She looked longingly on the potato's crumbly golden interior before she rubbed it along his member. He gasped and twitched at the heat, but she ignored him, rubbing harder until little flecks of the potato's flesh stuck to him and the silvery pubic hair.

Sasha dipped her head down, still clutching the opened potato. She kissed from the root up, catching potato crumbs with her tongue. Each time she swept it against him, he moaned or sighed. His cock twitched in her hand, straining with each touch. By the time, she reached the head, it was protruding from the foreskin. She hestitated and then swirled her tongue around it, catching a salty, viscuous liquid from the tip. Not bad, she thought, as she then took a bite of the tuber.

"Mein Gott, just do it!" Gilbert wailed. He grabbed her ponytail and tried to shove her head down upon him, but Sasha jerked away and glared at him. It had been so long since she had felt in control of anything, she wasn't going to let him take it away from her.

"I can get up and leave right now," she reminded him. "If you want me to stay, keep your hands to yourself." When he nodded, resigned, she took another bite and went back down on him. Chewed potato mingled with his skin and pre-cum, earth and salt and musk. Not bad at all, she thought as she slid her tongue and lips along his shaft, a perfect complement to each other.

She looked up his way. Gilbert was propped on his elbows, watching her. His mouth was open and his eyes looked strange, focused and unfocused, a dark burgundy that reflected purple in the dying embers. His hips rose to meet her, and a couple of times, she let him slip completely into her mouth and towards her throat. This wasn't bad, she thought as she bobbed her head. He was behaving himself and as long as he kept his hands away from her head, she enjoyed doing this.

"Oh yeah, baby. That's it, fuck yeah," Gilbert was chanting. Sasha pulled away, scraping her teeth slightly along the delicate skin. He whined at her retreat as she squeezed the base, amused at his neediness and the clear fluid emerging from his slit.

"Say my name," she whispered, toying with him as she took another bite of potato, swirling the chunks of it in her open mouth.

"Sasha," he whispered. "Sexy, freaky Sasha. Oh yeah, Sasha, that's it," he sighed as she bent down over him and took him in her mouth again. "Oh, Sasha, sexy as fuck Sasha, sweet nasty Sasha, Sasha darling, _Liebling,-"_

Sasha pulled away, breaking the suction with a wet pop. Something—maybe the frantic speed of his hips, his garbled words—had warned her to stop. If she went too far, she had a feeling, she'd be left in the state she was now, hot, trembly, and frustrated, even if she had all the potatoes. She wanted something else, she realized, and she could only get it from him if she left him panting and whining like he was now.

"Why the hell did you stop?" Gilbert wailed. He banged his head against the earth. "I said your name, I kept my hands off you, I promised a fucking whole potato…." As he muttered to himself, Sasha kicked off her boots and then slid off her pants. Her movements drew his attention and as he saw her remove the rest of his clothes, his eyes grew wide. She was trembling, she admitted it; she had never done this before. If they got caught, they'd both be disciplined. She wouldn't just be laughed at as Potato Girl, but the other recruits would call her worse names, view her with contempt or lust. As she leaned over to get the last potato, she realized she didn't care. Her stomach churned, but just below it, she could feel a liquid heat rising in her.

She squeezed open the potato in her hand and crawled on her knees up to Gilbert's face. He was silent now, breathing heavily, eyes mixed with curiosity and a little fear. Slowly, she brought one half of the potato between her legs and began rubbing it where she felt the wettest. At the warm touch, she gasped. It felt good to feel the potato's flesh against hers, to feel it sliding and spreading the moisture and sweet fluttering along herself. She could feel a part of her brain turning off, the part that was always scolding herself and worrying about what would happen. She focused on the rising heat and pleasure between her legs and the shocked look on Gilbert's face.

Sasha brought the potato half to her mouth and took a bite. When she did, Gilbert cursed under his breath in a mix of disbelief and admiration. She was pleased at how it tasted: tangy, salty, as slick and soft as if she had poured melted butter on it. "Mmm," she purred, feeling her lust and confidence rise. When Gilbert reached out to stroke her between her legs, she took his hand and whispered, "Want a bite?"

He nodded and she offered him the half. He bit into it gingerly, chewed and swallowed. His eyes narrowed as his smirk reappeared. "Tasty," he hissed at her. Sasha smiled back; her face felt strange as she mirrored his. She had never smiled at anyone like this before.

"Good." She whispered. Before he could do anything else, she slid up further and hovered over his face. She sank down and to her relief, he seemed to know exactly what she wanted. When she felt his tongue slide along her inner lips, she shuddered. Wet against wet; she had never imagined anything could feel so good. He licked his way up to her front, swirling his tongue against a little button of flesh. At the first touch, she gasped again and had to brace herself with her hands on the earth. Gilbert clung to her hips, holding her against his lips, as his tongue fluttered against her. If she looked down, she could see his face, eyes closed as his mouth worked away at her. She moaned, and he opened his eyes, looking up at her. She expected slyness, triumph at making her as weak and needy as she had made him a few minutes ago, but she saw something else: he looked young, eager for approval. She managed to lift one hand and gently stroke his hair. "Good boy, you're so good at thi_s. Ohhh_." She didn't know how she managed to string the words together.

The old cockiness came back into his eyes, as he started sucking and nibbling at her clitoris. She was trembling all over now, her thighs barely able to hold herself up. She could feel a force coiling within her, growing beyond pleasant to something almost painful. If he kept going, she didn't know what was going to happen, but it felt like it was going to break her apart, and she would enjoy every moment of it. Sasha gasped, whimpered, and ground herself against Gilbert's tongue and lips, trying to get to that space.

And then he stopped, turning his head to the side. She wailed, just as he had earlier. He squeezed her buttocks with his long fingers, and she squealed from the mix of pain and pleasure shooting all over her lower body. She glared down at him, but he looked up and whispered, "Let's finish together." He began pushing her farther along his body.

Why not? She thought. She slid back and hovered over his cock; it bobbled as she approached it and steadied it in her hand. Sasha took a deep breath. Okay, she thought, she was going to do it, it was going to hurt a little—at least that's what she had heard other women whisper—but then it was going to be fine. And this agonizing feeling of being on a precipice would end, with her tipped over the edge into—what?

Gilbert gripped her hips, easing her down onto himself. At the first push, Sasha gasped. It burned; it felt like someone was trying to force their fist into her. She couldn't do it, she thought. How the hell could anyone do this? "Come on, baby, you can do this," Gilbert whispered. His voice trembled. "Just take a deep breath, bite into that potato, and ease down." She nodded, did as he said, and when he pushed further into her, she whimpered from the pain. She had to concentrate on the potato flesh in her mouth, focus on the comforting taste and texture. He eased in further as she chewed and swallowed furiously, feeling tears come into her eyes. Seriously, she thought, why would anyone think this was _fun_?

But he was in her now, looking up at her. He no longer looked so confident or exasperated, but wonder-struck. She was touched; he had given her potatoes, kissed her down there, and now he was waiting, quivering under her body. I've come this far, she decided, I might as well go farther.

"Ready?" He could barely speak. Sasha nodded and he began thrusting his hips against her. It was awkward at first, but Sasha found the rhythm and clung to it. Now the good feeling was starting to come back, every time her clitoris rocked against his pubic bone. She shifted slightly and things started to feel better. She swallowed the last bite of potato and leaned forward, bracing herself with her hands against the cool earth, digging her fingers into it. She began making strange noises, sounds she had never imagined hearing from herself.

"Ehnh, ehnh," she gasped each time he rose up against her. "Ohhh!" His groans replied to hers as she ground against his hips. The good feeling was coming back with a vengeance, overwhelming her mind. She leaned forward to kiss him, biting at his lips and seeking his tongue. He pulled her closer, still thrusting away, hitting a spot that made her eyes roll back in her head. She couldn't see straight, she couldn't think; all she could do was thrust and gyrate, trying to get to that place she had wavered at before. Faster, faster, she managed to think, and Gilbert seemed to read her mind, quickening his pace. She was going to fall, fall apart and—

When it happened, she felt as if something had unfurled in her, sending waves of intense pleasure throughout her body. Sasha shuddered and wailed, arching her back and looking up at the night sky. Stars and colored dots danced before her eyes. She heard Gilbert gasp, "Oh shit, I'm coming, blaahhh!" and he pushed her down hard onto his hips. She felt herself pulsing around him, hard and sweet contractions that exhausted her. She sank back down upon him, relieved at the frantic little kisses he planted on her hair and forehead.

Their breathing slowed. Sometimes Sasha felt his skin shudder and heard him sigh; sometimes she felt the little runs along her body; it felt good, a memory of the earlier contractions, like the ripples at the outer edge of a rock cast into water. She finally managed to refocus her eyes and look down at him. The mean smirk was gone; he looked sleepily at her, his eyes a dark reddish-purple, framed by dark lashes. She kissed his nose and he rubbed it against hers.

"Kesesese," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. She felt him soften inside her and slide out, but he still held her. They kissed lazily. Then as Sasha nestled her head against his damp chest, she noted the potato half by her hand. She picked it up, took a bite of the cool tuber and handed it to him. He took a bite and they finished it by turns.

Sasha felt herself growing sleepy. What they had just done had exhausted her, but in a good way, so unlike the running of laps until she vomited. She liked that the usually loud, obnoxious Gilbert was silent, gently stroking her hair and shoulders. But she also knew that if she weren't at morning check-in, she'd get into more trouble.

"I have to go back to the barracks," she mumbled. "And so should you."

"Nah, stay here a little longer," he whispered. "We can sneak back in later." He looked up at her and smiled. No smirk remained, only something kind and affectionate. "Doesn't this feel good?" She nodded. Her stomach was full, her muscles were relaxed, and she wasn't being mocked or pitied. She could use a nap.

It was early morning when Sasha opened her eyes. She had had weird dreams: flowers bursting into bloom at a speed she had never noticed in the forest, potatoes that had tasted like salt and candy, a statue of a naked man that had come to life and had thrown Titans against the walls, smashing them into gobs of flesh and smoke. She was lying next to a pale-skinned young man, her leg sprawled across his thighs. Gilbert, she realized. And then she panicked and began to get up.

He stirred and rubbed his eyes. It was getting to be dawn; the sky was shifting to gray. Sasha yanked on her clothes as he watched her. When she was ready, she turned to him.

"Please don't tell anyone about this," she said. She thought of what Connie or Jean would say if they heard Gilbert boasting about what he had done to her. She could see Mikasa's disappointment, Annie's contempt. "If you do, I'll, I'll mess up the rigging on your 3-D maneuver gear, I'll tell the drill sergeant that—"

"Relax, babe." Gilbert propped himself up on his elbows. "I'm not going to let anyone else know. I want to keep all that good stuff to myself, kesesese." He smirked at her, but she felt safe this time. He sat up and pulled her head towards his so that their foreheads touched. "Next week," he said, "My brother and I will be unloading the supply trains. The new potatoes will be coming in, and we won't be eating last year's crop anymore." He spoke softly, clearly, as if placing each word into her ear. "They'll be as small as marbles, skin so soft you can rub them off with your fingers. When you bake them, they get so soft and tasty, it's like they turn to mashed potatoes right before your eyes." Sasha felt herself grinning along with him. "Same place, same time, and we'll have our own fun, ja?" She nodded. "Now get that sexy ass moving before you have to run more laps, ja?" They kissed one more time and Sasha got up. As she walked away, she glanced back at him. Gilbert was pulling on his clothes, face lost in the folds of his shirt. Next week, she thought, as she crept into the barracks and hid herself under her blanket, next week. She'd run her laps, beg for her leftover bread and soup, ignore the pity and jokes, because next week she'd have her feast. A boy with silver hair, garnet eyes, and potatoes.


End file.
